Purple Tribal Paint
by seddieplease
Summary: On a sweet summer's night at a camp what will happen when Freddie and Sam meet under the stars?


Everyone here is so sweet, so genuine towards me. But I just feel, I don't know. Lonely. Yeah, that's probably it. I'm really freaking lonely. There's lots of really cute girls here, but I don't really care. Carly's run off with some guy she met the first day of camp, and Sam's off somewhere painting tribal markings on everyone's faces.

It's the last night of camp, but I've met almost no one. Okay, so I've met people, but I haven't bonded with anyone. So here I am, sitting on a bridge in the freezing cold, at one in the morning while everyone else is inside the main cabin dancing their asses off and getting drunk out of their minds.

It's whatever though, I've never been into that kind of stuff, anyway. Drinking's just not my thing, and I don't particularly enjoy random people grinding their bodies against me. Far too sweaty.

I lay down, facing up towards the stars. You know, out here, you can actually see the stars. They're…breath taking. I close my eyes, resting for a moment in the silence. Suddenly, I feel something cold being streaked across my cheek, and something warm down my neck.

"Don't move," Sam says, so I stay still and open my eyes. She's sitting Indian style next to me, leaning over and marking my face with her red paints. Her face is painted blue.

"What are you doing out here?" I ask her. I notice that as I say this to her, she get's closer to my face to observe her work (the tribal stripes).

"I could ask you the same thing, Freddnub,"

Her golden hair is longer now, longer than it was when we were younger. It's at her butt now, but it's still as gorgeous as it ever was. It flows from her head and tickles my face. I lightly grab it, and smell it.

"Oh, gross! You're getting my hair in your face paint,"

"Sorry. Please don't kill me!"

"Why were you smelling my hair, anyway?" She says, leaning away and sitting up straight. I suddenly missed her closeness.

"I just caught the scent. It smells like bacon, by the way,"

"Oh…okay," she whispers quietly.

"So, why'd you come find me?"

"It's good to see a familiar face, I guess,"

"You got pretty familiar with that William kid,"

Sam blushes at this, but she looks a little angry, too.

"He kissed me, it wasn't exactly mutual,"

"So…you didn't want to kiss him?"

She wrenches her hands together and turns away.

"No. I…I only want to kiss one person,"

"Yeah? Who's the lucky man?" I say, sitting up and turning to face her.

"Like I'd tell you!"

"Oh, come on. Gimme some hints,"

"Okay, just one,"

"That's all I ask," I say, laughing. Who could Sam like?

"Shut your eyes,"

"What- why?"

"JUST DO IT BENSON,"

"Okay- okay,"

"Alright. Ready?"

"Mhm-"

But before I can answer, I feel the best sensation I've ever felt. Sam Puckett, kissing my lips. My lips! Not only does she smell like bacon, but she tastes as sweet as syrup. I keep my eyes shut, and put my hand on her neck, bringing her closer to me. We continue kissing for a few sweet moments until she pulls away, breaking the magnificent connection between our lips.

"I…I'm sorry I shouldn't have-" she says, getting up from the bridge and she begins to bolt away from me.

"Sam! Sam! Stop running from me!" I say, quickly catching up behind her. Okay, in years past, I was slim and would have never been able to catch her, but I have to admit, I've built up lately and could easily beat her. But I love our fights, and I love her winning smirk, so why would I use my power?

I finally catch up to her, grab her wrist, and turn her around. She keeps her face turned away from me.

"Sam, stop it. Show me your face, please,"

"N..no,"

"Sam, are you crying?"

"N-n-o!"

At this answer, I pick her up bridal style, looping her arms around my neck.

"When did you get fast enough to catch me? To stop me? To carry me?"

"Two years ago. About,"

"Then…then why do you let me win!"

"I love your smile. Your smirk,"

"…You jerk,"

"No, being a jerk is when you kiss someone, then run away. Do you know how that makes me feel, Samantha?"

Oh that's right. I just called her Samantha.

"I…I just…"

"Being a jerk is pulling away from the best kiss God has ever created on this earth. Being a jerk is leading me on. Being a jerk is tasting so sweet and pulling away from me. Being a jerk is being as cute as you are now, which makes it impossible for me to be mad at you,"

"Freddie I wasn't trying to lead you on! I…I did want to kiss you but I thought that you would be mad because you love Carly and I would mess everything up…and I'm…I'm just embarrassed about the kiss!"

"You're embarrassed you kissed me." I inquire, setting her back down.

"Wait- Freddie-" She says, grabbing my hand.

Now I can't stop myself. I lean in, grab her around the waist, and pull her into another kiss. At first, she refuses but within moments she melts into the kiss. I can feel a tear slide down her cheek. I release her.

"Sorry." I say, embarrassed.

"So, you don't like Carly…"

"I haven't for two years, Sam."

"Well…I'm. I'm glad," she whispers.

"What?"

"I'm glad you don't like her anymore Freddie!"

I smile, cupping her face again. But this time, I don't go for a kiss. She does.

"Sam-" I gasp between the make out session.

"What?"

"Ahah. Your face turned purple because of the paint."

"Ha, your's did too. There's a couple red spots left….but I can fix that."


End file.
